


The Wolf You Feed

by ShadowBiscuit



Series: Starting With A Bite [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aggressive Dean, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Omega, Anal Fisting, Bottom Sam, Dirty Talk, Fighting, First Time, M/M, Manhandling, Needy Sam, Possessive Behavior, Rough Sex, Top Dean, and then fluff, bitten by a werewolf, more or less
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-08-15
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:31:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean are expert hunters, in their own way. So of course they know everything about werewolves, about their weaknesses and the best way to send them to Purgatory.<br/>Dean knew not to get bit.<br/>He didn't know of the possessive hunger that came with getting bitten.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Got To Keep It In

He stared at the hole in the corpse’s chest for a long moment, leaning closer and wrinkling his nose as a mild putrid smell hit him, pressing at the cold flesh with a gloved finger. He then straightened up and sighed, before looking at his brother.

“Yeah, you were right,” he admitted with one final glance at the corpse. “Definitively a werewolf.”

Sam shot him a self-satisfied look. “Told you it was worth a look.”

“Wipe that grin off your face. Just do it, or I’ll do it for you, and I’ll use a chair.”

They’ve been cooped up in the bunker for days now, desperate for a case, a hunt. When Sam came to him and shoved the newspaper article in his face, Dean was hopeful, but remained skeptical. It was about some missing people, those recovered dead and mangled, but since the area was known to have many animal attacks, at least five per year, he didn’t think too much of it. There weren’t enough evidence pointing toward a werewolf either, so when Sam suggested they check it out, he was obviously reluctant. Sure, he wanted nothing more than to get up and stretch his legs a bit, get some fresh air. He was starting to feel claustrophobic. So yeah, a hunt sounded wonderful, but Dean still didn’t feel like driving all the way to that small town, just to find out that the only things munching on people were rapid raccoons.

But now he was feeling kind of stupid, because as he looked over the corpse with one clearly missing heart, he had no choice but to accept the fact that his little brother was smarter than him. But only this time. Obviously only this time.

Sam loosened the tie around his neck after getting rid of the light blue gloves, then looked over the other two bodies in the morgue. “You think this is the work of multiple wolves?”

“Well,” Dean began as he followed his brother’s gaze around the room, “I can’t say for sure. One werewolf could have certainly done this. It’s not like they get too tired from killing.”

“But the disappearances didn’t only occur on a full moon.”

“I know. And that’s why we can’t be sure. It might be one wolf killing for the thrill, for the fun of it, or a pack of ‘em taking turns or something. Thinking that all of those animals are tame unless there’s a full moon is too naïve.”

“Yeah…” Sam scowled down at the corpses, before meeting his brother’s eyes. “But look at this,” he said as he pointed to the wounds on one of the bodies. “They’re not all the same, are they?”

“So what? Maybe he or she likes variety.”

But Sam shook his head. “That’s not what I mean. They are obviously claw marks, but if you look closely, they don’t seem like they belong to the same person. Or, in this case, wolf.”

He considered that as he walked over to his brother, then studied the several cuts and gashes on the corpse.

“Look,” Sam continued, “that one is thinner than the other, on his arm. That one’s really deep, and have you seen his back? There’s barely any skin left on the poor guy. It’s like he’s been used as a human piñata.”

“And the heart was the candy?” Dean grinned, but when he realized that his brother didn’t seem to be appreciating his remark, he cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, okay. He’s been cut up more than necessary and it’s entirely possible that they ganged up on him. Guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves, huh?”

“I guess so,” Sam agreed. He then moved away from the body trays while Dean covered the deceased with the sheets, stopping at the door and looking back over his shoulder. “Stakeout?”

Dean pushed the trays back into the refrigerator, before meeting his brother’s curious gaze. “Stakeout.”

*

Each victim disappeared at night, more or less around the same time. And each time they were alone, in a wooded area. Those who’ve last seen them told the hunters how each victim either needed to take out the trash—the public bin conveniently placed at the outskirts on the forest the town was surrounded by—or take a leak, drive on the road going through the woods or go jogging, get out for a smoke. No matter what they did before they vanished, they were always in a wooded area.

So they decided to do the same.

When they got into the car, the sun was already setting, the temperature dropping and the sky bathed in an orange light. They spent two hours asking question and not always getting answers, and even when they did, they weren’t always the ones they were looking for. But now here they were, sitting in the Impala and coming up with a plan that might or might not work, based on the little info they acquired.

“This whole town is in the middle of the woods. There are trees wherever you look,” Dean complained as he drove to the more suburb area of the place. “How are we supposed to survey everything, keep our eyes on everyone who comes and goes like this?”

“We could always split up,” Sam reminded him, drawing a frustrated groan from the older hunter.

“I already told you that we’re not doing that. If there really is more than one wolf involved here, then we need to stick together.”

“Fine.”

Sam was sighing, but Dean didn’t care. He wouldn’t lose his brother to a pack of werewolves just because that idiot felt like being practical. They could cover more ground by splitting up, he knew that Sam had a point there, but he really didn’t want to find himself attacked by a horde of foaming from the mouth lunatics. And he especially didn’t want Sam to get cornered by those monsters, because while both he and his brother were strong men, capable of beating the crap out of monsters, he wasn’t quite sure how they’d fare in a one versus five fight.

So he was going to sacrifice his pride, rather putting up with a sulking little brother than a dead one.

Then three hours passed with nothing, and now Dean was sighing too.

“My ass is numb. I seriously can’t feel it,” he whined, letting his forehead bump into the wheel.

“Let’s take a walk,” Sam suggested hopefully. “It doesn’t have to be a long one, but I feel like my legs are going to fall off. I mean it literally—they are going to fall out of their sockets and wither away.”

“Yep, okay, walking sounds good. Walking sounds fantastic,” Dean stated, and then he was out of the car in a matter of seconds.

They parked on the small gravel path that led from the road to the mountains, said path snaking around trees, but Dean stopped the car next to the road and far away from the trees. He really didn’t need bird poop on his car, not ever again, or he was seriously going to shoot a bird.

He stretched his limbs and groaned pleasantly as he heard his joints popping and cracking, then turned to Sam who was doing the same. “So, where to?”

“Around the car,” Sam said, then shrugged at the look Dean gave him. “Hey, we can’t move around too much. We might miss something.”

“And maybe we’ll miss something by staying in one place for too long,” he grumbled as he walked to the trunk, opening it and ignoring Sam’s questions, before he pulled out a flashlight.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

“What? Or would you rather wander around blindly? Oh wait, don’t tell me you suddenly have night vision?” Dean joked, to what his brother just rolled his eyes and, when he walked over to Sam, snatched the flashlight out of his hands. “Hey! Get your own!”

“Nope,” said Sam, then opened his mouth to say something else, but froze.

Wondering what got into his brother, Dean was about to ask him if he was okay, when he heard it. A muffled scream, coming from the woods. The brothers shared a look, waited a long moment, and then when the scream came again—this time lower and sounding more far away—they ran into the sea of trees.

They tried to pinpoint the location the sound came from, but it wasn’t easy, especially since whoever screamed had stopped doing so. “Crap, you think they got to them?”

“Let’s hope not. Come on, I think it’s this way.”

He followed his brother deeper into the woods, and seriously hoped the flashlight wasn’t going to run out of battery right now. It wasn’t a full moon, but the glowing crescent in the sky was still doing a good job at illuminating the town. However as they went further and further in, the leaves began blocking out the moonlight, leaving them with the flashlight as their only light source. Dean really hated the dark, but he could handle it. It wasn’t a big deal.

But when he heard the growl coming from only a few feet from him, he suddenly began dreading it.

Sam turned around at the same time as he did, and flashed the light into the snarling werewolf’s face. It growled at them, baring its fangs and bringing up its hands in a threatening fashion, ready to claw their eyeballs out.

“’Sup Lassie,” Dean taunted the thing, because he always became witty when he was nervous.

He watched as the werewolf advanced on them, but he was already pulling out his gun, which was loaded with silver bullets. Sam cursed behind him, and Dean risked a glance at his brother, realizing that they were quickly gaining an audience, and it wasn’t a good kind, either.

More wolves appeared from the shadows, creeping out from behind trees and leaping down from thick branches. In only a few seconds, they were surrounded by at least seven of those fuckers, and Dean really hoped they had enough bullets for this massacre.

“Not so cocky now, are you, human?” the wolf in front of him sneered, its yellow orbs glaring daggers at him.

Dean slid his thumb to the hammer of the gun and pulled it back, flashing a hopefully smug grin at the monster as he aimed between its eyes. “Well, I’m still the one with the gun, so I’m not really worrying.”

He felt Sam’s back pressing into his, the werewolves circling them. They were trapped, a pair of vulnerable prey for the wolves. But they had their silver knives and bullets, so that was something. After another long moment while nothing happened, Dean had enough of the silent stare battle between them and the monster in front of him, and he elbowed his brother, discreetly nodding to the knife hidden on Sam’s person when he looked back at him.

But unfortunately, it appeared that he wasn’t that discreet after all, because in the next moment the flashlight was knocked out of his brother’s hand, and the werewolves attacked.

It was complete chaos. Loud growls echoed through the forest as several wolves pounced on him, immediately pinning him to the ground, but Dean was able to squeeze off some shots before hitting the hard earth. He kicked and clawed at the snarling monsters trying to snatch the gun from his hands, punched and even performed a rather painful headbutt on one of them, but they were relentless. He could hear Sam doing more or less the same, struggling a few feet from him, and he caught a glance of his brother just in time to see him bury the knife in a wolf. Good, he thought. They weren’t as helpless as he feared.

But he was still on the ground and in the process of getting the shit kicked out of him. He grabbed one leg that tried to knock some of his teeth out and pulled, then when the werewolf the leg belonged to joined him on the ground with a yelp, Dean pressed the barrel of the gun against its temple, looked away, and pulled the trigger. He felt something wet on his left cheek but tried real hard not to think about it, as he still had some stubborn wolves to take care of.

They were now raking their claws down his body in hopes of slashing an artery, so Dean went crazy with his arms and legs, thrashing around and successfully backhanding and kneeing some of them until they backed off.

Then suddenly there was a foot stomping on his wrist and the gun got plucked from his hand.

Awesome.

He watched as the wolf raised the gun and inspected it, and when, instead of pointing it at Dean, the grinning monster pointed it at his brother, his eyes widened.

“Sam! Look out!” he shouted, desperately tugging on his arm even if it hurt, trying to sit up, which wasn’t easy with several wolves still holding him down. There was a gunshot and he didn’t want to look, but did anyway, and let out a sigh of relief when he saw his brother holding a gun of his own while the wolf that had Dean’s gun fell to the ground.

The wolves howled and Sam began shooting them one by one. Deciding that he was covered with enough dirt for tonight, Dean forced his body to move and broke a wolf’s nose with his forehead. He then picked up his gun and managed to shoot one wolf before another one pounced on his arm and knocked the gun out of his hand again.

“For fuck’s sake!” he grumbled, seriously pissed off now, and grabbed the wolf by its ponytail and bashed its head into the ground. He repeated that until the werewolf stopped moving, then was about to stand up when another latched onto his back and wrapped an arm around his neck.

He grunted then began chocking, before taking a hold of a couple of the wolf’s fingers and breaking them. It shrieked right into his ear, threatening to deafen him, and removed its arm, but Dean was already turning around and punching that son of a bitch until his knuckles hurt.

And then his knuckles hurt even more when the werewolf sank its fangs into his fist.

He felt his heart stop, and he immediately yanked his hand away before kicking the wolf in the stomach, then found his gun and shot it right in the head.

“I’m never,” Sam said, panting and looking around the carnage, “going on a hunt again before making sure how many assholes we’re up against.”

Dean slowly got to his feet, barely listening to what his brother was saying. He looked down at his hand, his trembling hand which had a bite mark on it, and felt a sudden wave of nausea hitting him. Swallowing thickly, he glanced over at Sam. He wasn’t paying attention to Dean right now, in the middle of retrieving his knife from one of the wolves, so the older hunter used this moment to kneel down and rip off a piece of fabric from the wolf’s shirt. He tugged and pulled at it until it tore, then quickly wrapped it around his bleeding fist, finishing just before Sam joined him.

“You okay?” he asked, giving him a look that Dean knew far too well.

“Just peachy,” he said dismissively, then added, “though my whole body feels sore and I’m pretty sure I’m bleeding from places I shouldn’t be.”

That made his brother laugh, and Dean visibly relaxed.

“Same. I mean I suspected there being more wolves than just one, but this many?” He took one last glance at the bodies and shook his head. “I haven’t seen this many werewolves since…well, never. I’ve never seen this many in one place, let alone working together as a pack.”

“I know what you mean,” Dean agreed as he began walking back to where they came from. Somebody would call in the gunshots and there would be police swarming around this area in no time, so they needed to get out of here. Normally, they would burn the bodies in order to get rid of any evidence, but right now they had no time for that. “I didn’t expect this many, or for them to be that well coordinated.”

“The perfect animals, right?” Sam sighed. “Well anyway, I’m spent and in pain. Let’s get back to the motel and get some shut-eye.”

“I second that,” he said, all the while clenching his fist.

And they remained mostly silent as they walked back to the car, then drove to the motel, but only on the outside. Dean had no idea what Sam must have been thinking, but personally, he was freaking the fuck out.

He got bit.

He got bit by a damned werewolf and, unlike with vampires, there was no cure for this shit. He knew that all too well, thanks to a certain werewolf lady that nearly slashed his little brother open. They looked and looked, but no hunter had even found a cure. And the infliction, this cursed lycanthropy traveled through bites. You either got bit or were born as a werewolf, and each time, there was no going back. And Dean just had to go and get himself bit.

Jesus Christ, he was going to turn into a monster.

He didn’t know how long it would take, maybe a couple of hours or a day, maybe only minutes, but it would happen. He would howl at the moon and sport a new set of teeth and nails, upgraded to fangs and claws. Holy crap, was he panicking. It took him by surprise and he didn’t know what to do when he saw the bite, so he immediately covered it up and hid it from Sam, but he knew he couldn’t keep it that way for long. Yeah, it would be pretty hard to hide the fact that he was infected when he’d go all Teen Wolf on his brother.

Shit. Shit. Shit, what was he supposed to do?

He could do the noble thing and swallow a silver bullet, end this before it even began. But what if the werewolfism didn’t get into his system? It was a small bite, after all, maybe it wouldn’t do anything. Yeah right, as if that could happen. That was wishful thinking, but maybe… No, he was panicking, in denial and refusing the fact that soon, he was going to turn into one of the things they hunted, one of the monsters they just killed not too long ago.

Was Sam going to kill him?

No, no way. Sammy could never do it, not even if Dean would ask him, beg him to put a bullet in his brain. He’d just tell him that it was okay, it would all be okay, they’d find a cure somehow. Because that’s what they did, always overcoming the impossible and fixing things. Well, not this time, Sammy. This time, there was no going back. Dean was going to transform and he couldn’t bear the thought of ever harming his brother in that frenzied state. But still, even though he knew what to do, what the right thing to do was, he just couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. He was too scared. Yes, he was afraid, didn’t want to die, not like this. Going down swinging while saving the world, sure, he would take that any day over this. Anything but this, having to go as a werewolf. He wondered if he’d end up in Purgatory, but then shuddered and stopped thinking.

He would ignore it for as long as he could. It was a selfish and cowardly thing to do, but he had hope. Sort of. He hoped the curse wouldn’t affect him, it finding Dean too corrupt already and cutting him some slack. He would wait until tomorrow morning, maybe afternoon, before telling Sam, before doing anything.

Although tomorrow might just end up being too late to do a thing…

*

After washing away all the blood, not all of it his, and patching up most of the wounds covering his body except for one, Dean stood in the bathroom and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

He let Sam take a shower first, and now that Dean was done, it was time for him to go out. He couldn’t stay in here, but he kind of wished he could lock himself in and never leave. He really didn’t want to make up his mind, but he had to choose between covering the bite mark on his hand or not. But explaining what happened to Sam, showing him the mark and pressuring him into something Dean knew he wouldn’t do… No, he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t ready for this, damn it. Rubbing his face with slightly shaking hands, he let out a frustrated groan before bracing himself against the sink and leaning forward. Nothing was changing for now. He stared at himself in the mirror, taking in every inch of his face, but his eyes were normal, his teeth remained teeth, and he didn’t have an irresistible urge to bark at a mailman or go outside, throw his head back and howl at the moon. He truly hoped it would stay like this, that he would stay this way, but he couldn’t be sure. Only time would tell, but he wasn’t feeling too patient here, not when his life was on the line.

He couldn’t force the change or mingle with time, however, so he’d have to settle for just waiting.

Sighing, he reached for another piece of bandage, which he wrapped around his hand, then stared at it for a while. Then he uttered a silent prayer and walked out.

“What took you so long?” Sam raised an eyebrow at him when Dean sat down on the bed next to his. “Because if you were trying to beautify yourself, I’m not so sure it worked.”

Dean shot a glare at his smirking brother, then rolled his eyes. “As if you’d notice. And anyway, if anyone was going to _beautify_ themselves, that would surely be you. What with that magnificent hair of yours.”

“Would you cut it out with the hair already?” his brother snapped, then ruffled his hair. “I bet you’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” Dean laughed. “And of what, exactly? Having to comb that nest each morning? Or maybe of the way hair falls in front your eyes and prevents you from seeing anything? Yeah, I really envy you.”

Sam huffed and shook his head at Dean, but that fake sulking act wasn’t working too well while he was smiling. “Whatever, be in denial for as long as you want. I know the truth,” he said, then pulled the blanket over his body and turned off the lamp by his bedside table.

“You know nothing…” Dean said with a small sigh that he hoped Sam wouldn’t realize just how desolate it sounded, before following his brother’s example and getting under the blanket and turning off the light.

“Night,” he heard his brother mumble, and felt a sad smile form on his lips as he closed his eyes.

“Yeah.”

And then he slowly drifted off to sleep.

*

His eyes flew open and he clutched the blanket until he stopped shaking.

Dean was drenched in sweat, waking up with a start in the middle of the night. He tried to catch his breath but he couldn’t stop panting, and when he glanced at the clock on the bedside table, he noticed he barely slept a few hours.

And he knew exactly why he woke up. He knew it, there was no other reason behind it than what he dreaded ever since he closed his eyes. The change was starting and he was turning into a goddamn monster. He was already feeling different, could make out the dark shapes in the room much easier, could hear the ongoing traffic, the toilet getting flushed from two rooms next to theirs, Sam’s even heartbeat and breathing…

And then he realized that he could not only hear his brother, but smell him too.

It was the sweetest of smells, making him take a long and deep inhale, and Dean could feel a wave of something alien sweeping through his body. He let out a low growl, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to look away from Sam’s bed, from where the tempting scent was coming from. It caused him physical pain to look away, but he still did it, couldn’t give in to the wolf he could now feel inside. It was snarling at him, screaming at him to pounce at the unsuspecting prey just ready for the taking, to claw and rip, to claim.

It was too much, Sammy’s smell filling his nostrils with each breath he took, and he could feel his resolve slowly slipping away. Fuck, he couldn’t do this. He couldn’t attack his own fucking brother in his sleep. Dean knew what he had to do, he knew he had to run now or face the consequences of his actions, because sooner or later the wolf was going to take over, and it really looked like it would be sooner.

“Damn it, no,” he groaned, devastated and frustrated, as he kicked the blanket off and headed toward the door. He needed to get out of here, and he needed to do it now. Right fucking now, or he would snap, would rip Sammy’s throat out, his sweet delicate Sammy, delicious smelling Sammy, with honey-like skin, soft and perfect… He stopped in front of the door, his hand hovering above the handle for the longest moment before closing into a fist. He felt his nails extending and turning into claws, the pain as the sharp edges sank into his palm a barely noticeable sting. His fangs poked at his tongue as he ran the wet flesh across them, then he turned around and gazed into the darkness, at his brother.

The Alpha inside of him was growling, and so was he, because they were suddenly one, sharing thoughts, craving the same thing. Needing to feel the red, hot blood under their tongue, hearing their prey’s desperate screams. And Dean was grinning, a dark and nasty grin, as he stalked closer to his Sammy, his dear little brother, who he just couldn’t wait to mark as his own.

Tonight, he’d get to have his baby brother in a way like never before.


	2. Kingdom Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wakes up to a rather dangerous surprise...

After such a tiring day, he thought he would get a good night’s sleep, stay in bed for at least eight or so hours. But when he woke up and it was still dark in the room, Sam knew he’d have to give up on that idea.

He shifted in the bed, trying to somehow force himself back to sleep, but something was off. There was this weird feeling nagging at him, this unusual feeling of being watched, and he let it bother him until he couldn’t take it anymore. Sam turned on his back with a small frown on his face and blinked until the sleep left his eyes, then his frown deepened as he saw his brother standing by his bed like some sort of zombie.

“Dean?” He quickly looked his big brother over, and even though in this darkness he couldn’t really make out much, it didn’t seem like Dean was hurt. But he wasn’t talking, just standing still like a statue and making Sam worry with each passing second.

Sam kept his eyes on his brother for a bit longer, before moving to sit up on the bed, but then Dean’s hands shot out from his sides and grabbed his shoulders, pushing the hunter back on the bed. He crawled on it with Sam, hovering over him like the living embodiment of danger itself, staring deep into his eyes, and from this close, Sam could see his brother’s face, which looked so different that for a second, he wondered if this was even his brother.

Dean’s eyes were golden and his lips were twisted into a constant snarl, and the longer Sam stayed silent, the more certain he became of the fact that his brother was growling. “Dean? What the hell?” he said, his eyes slightly widening when he tried to remove his brother’s hands from his body, but the suddenly frenzied man’s fingers dug into his skin, making him hiss.

It hurt, way more than it should’ve, and he could feel something warm trickling down his shoulders a few seconds later.

“Sammy…” Dean’s whisper was deep and raspy as he leaned closer, and now Sam was sure, his brother’s eyes were glowing.

“Shit,” he cursed, then felt like cursing some more when he noticed that Dean had removed all of his bandages. But instead of there being several wounds on his skin, there was nothing. Dean was unscarred, which shouldn’t have been possible, but here he was, sporting a pair of yellow eyes and Sam was pretty sure that the pointy things digging into his flesh were claws.

His brother was a werewolf, who just so happened to be pinning him to a bed and eyeing his throat.

“Damn it, Dean!” Sam snapped, struggling under his brother’s unrelenting grip. “Why didn’t you tell me you got bit?”

Dean rolled those strange eyes, before flashing a grin at him, exposing his deadly-looking fangs. “Knew you’d react like this. Didn’t feel like listening to your bullshit, lil’ bro.”

“Dean, you need to get off,” he said sternly while trying to ignore the fact that his brother turned monster had every chance of slashing his throat at any given moment. “I’ll have to restrain you or you might hurt someone.”

“Oh yeah, but I won’t just hurt _someone_ ,” his brother replied and his grin widened. “I’ll hurt you, Sammy.”

He narrowed his eyes at Dean. “You’re not thinking straight. You’re turning into a werewolf, Dean, and remember when you were a vampire? It makes you aggressive, this new kind of blood running through your veins. It’s monster blood and it’s making you think and say things that’s not you. Come on, get off. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” Dean laughed and Sam was feeling less and less safe like this, under him. “You wouldn’t, and even if you did, couldn’t hurt me. Not the way I am. You were right, I’ve got some monster steroids in me, but don’t think that I won’t use it to get what I want. And right now, I want many things.”

“Like killing me? Is that it? Are you going to let this beat you, make you rip my heart out?” Sam spat, returning Dean’s previous snarl. “That’s not who I knew you to be, Dean. You can’t let the wolf control you, man!”

“Oh, but it ain’t controlling me,” his brother purred, something in his voice making Sam shiver. “We’re one and the same, Sammy. I’m the Alpha now.”

“The Alpha?” He raised his eyebrows, but Dean was already shaking his head.

“Not the kind you’re thinking about. This is a different one, and even I’m not too sure what it is, but I can feel it. I can sense it, Sam, feel it in my bones and soul. I just know that this is what I am, what my wolf is.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“Maybe not,” he said with a shrug, then the grin was back on his face and Sam wished he could merge with the bed and hide from those piercing eyes. “But I think you’ll understand soon enough.”

“Dean, just…get off, will you?” He sighed, not feeling like fighting it out with his brother, but when he saw the determined look in his eyes, Sam knew he’d have no choice but to knock him out. He wouldn’t mind beating Dean up—they fought many times before—but he wouldn’t enjoy it.

So, when Dean opened his mouth to growl back an answer, he took the opportunity to knee his brother in the stomach and peel those clawed fingers from his shoulders.

Dean was already making angry and not that promising sounds as he fell on his ass, but before Sam could’ve jumped out of the bed, he felt strong hands grabbing his hair and yanking him down and back on the bed. He grunted in pain and tried to elbow Dean, but it didn’t work and he cried out instead when another hand got wrapped around his throat and pushed him deep into the mattress.

His eyes widened in fear and the sudden realization that Dean really had lost it, completely giving in and turning into a savage werewolf, which meant a whole lot of bad news for Sam. Especially since Dean was leaning into his hold and cutting off his air, putting more and more pressure on his windpipe, until Sam felt like fainting. Then his hand was gone and Sam was immediately gasping for air, coughing and panting at the same time. However the relief didn’t last for long, and he froze, the blood turning to ice in his veins when Dean leaned closer and sniffed him.

He fucking sniffed him like a dog.

Sam stayed impossibly still, his heart hammering in his chest as he felt his brother’s warm breath ghosting along his neck, then couldn’t help but flinch when a warm and wet tongue licked into the hollow of his neck.

“Dean,” he whispered in a way one would address a caged animal, “stop it.”

He heard and felt Dean’s low chuckle, and he squeezed his eyes shut when his brother freaking nuzzled his neck.

“Sorry Sammy, but not tonight. This night is mine…and so are you.”

And then he began kissing down Sam’s neck, and the younger hunter snapped.

Freaking out because his own brother was surely about to eat him or worse, he punched Dean in the jaw and tried to push him off. The werewolf was persistent, however, and slashed across Sam’s arm, drawing a pained hiss from him, before baring his fangs at him. That might have creeped him out, but did nothing to stop him from kicking his brother off the bed and onto the floor, waiting until Dean hit the hard surface before crawling to the other side of the bed. He never quite reached it, though, because in the next moment his brother was pulling him back by his shirt. Sam tried to stop him, grabbed onto the blanket and the sheets, then reaching for the headboard, but then he was falling and getting kicked in the spine, which wasn’t such a pleasant experience, so he grunted.

“Dean!” he yelled at his brother in frustration, but it was no use. He had to realize that like this, in the state Dean was in right now, there was no getting through to him.

And he was scared. He didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he was fucking terrified. Normal, human Dean had his moments as well, when he would go all crazy and beat the shit out of Sam, and usually for a good reason. He could be violent, punching him until he passed out, and that was human Dean. This version, this nightmarish monster his brother had become? Sam had no idea what it could do, how far he would go. Not once has he ever seen so bloodthirsty, at least not toward him. And yeah, that kinda made him angry, but mainly scared. That might make him into a coward, but damn it, Dean was a werewolf and he seemed hungry. Hungry for blood and death, for Sam’s literal heart, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if his brother wouldn’t even bother to use a knife and just claw Sam’s still beating heart right out of chest.

So yeah, he was scared.

And when he was scared, he usually lashed out.

Dean was standing behind him, he could feel it, then his suspicions proved to be correct when his brother began tugging at his shirt until he ripped it off Sam. But he wasn’t going to keep still and wait for his brother to rip him apart too, and when Dean grabbed his arm and tried to turn him around, Sam did turn, but used the momentum to land a brutal punch to his brother’s knee.

“Son of a—” Dean cursed loudly, before letting out a pained growl and falling to the floor when Sam kicked the same knee. He didn’t hear a crunch, so he failed in shattering the werewolf’s kneecap, but giving serious injuries to his brother wasn’t part of his plan, anyway.

That way of thinking did not seem to concern Dean, as moments after falling to the floor, he reached out and bashed Sam’s head against the bedside table. He did so several times, until Sam was pretty sure he was going to lose consciousness, but then stopped and punched him in the gut instead, which really wasn’t any better. Sam gasped, coughed for a second or two, then tried to kick Dean again, but his brother wasn’t going to fall for it this time. He grabbed Sam’s ankle and twisted, a horrible, burning pain shooting up from his leg as that madman broke his ankle. Sam screamed, the pain too great for him to keep his voice in, then in a fit of rage, he took a hold of the lamp on the table and hurled it at Dean.

It shattered on his brother’s head, but aside from pissing him off even more, it didn’t seem to do much. Which was just fan-fucking-tastic, because now Sam couldn’t possibly run, nor really fight, so what was he supposed to do? Hope that Dean would take pity on him when he’d see just how damn terrified he was of his own brother? Try to overpower the werewolf and then regret his decision while getting mauled to death? He was running out of options and Dean was closing the distance between them. The silver knife was in his duffel, which was on the other side of the bed, so maybe if he could get to it in time… But no, he couldn’t use that on Dean. No matter how dangerous his brother was right now, it was still his brother, and Sam was not going to kill him. The way he was, he might even let the werewolf eat him, though he still sincerely hoped that it wouldn’t come to that.

Then Dean was crouching down in front of him and flashed him such a dirty grin that he had to wonder if getting eaten alive was the only thing he’d have to worry about.

“Don’t,” he warned, hoping that his voice was strong enough, but Dean was already licking his lips. The flight impossible from the fight or flight response when cornered by a hungry predator, Sam decided to give one last try at getting out of this situation with most of his limbs intact and still attached to his body, so as soon as Dean got close enough, he wrapped his fingers around a shard of the shattered lamp and plunged it into his brother’s side, before shoving him out of the way. Immediately afterward, he turned around and opened the second drawer of the bedside table to look for the gun. It only had normal bullets in it, but since Sam wasn’t planning on murdering his brother or hitting anything important, he decided it was worth a shot, pun intended.

Or at least it would have been worth it, but he never quite got to finding it out as he felt powerful hands around his ankles. He cried out in pain when Dean gripped his broken ankle, then made a rather unmanly sound when he abruptly got pulled back, falling on his stomach and elbows and, unfortunately, chin. He was lucky he didn’t bite his tongue off, then felt less lucky as Dean kept pulling him back, Sam sliding on the floor and desperately trying to hold onto something.

When that did not happen, he began yelling.

“Dean! Stop it!” he shouted while thrashing around in the werewolf’s grasp. “Enough already, let me go! Dean!”

And when his brother did let him go, Sam had to wonder if somehow, Dean managed to get a hold of himself and snap out of it, but then was really quick to realize that, nope, things were actually just getting worse.

Because as soon as Dean’s hands left him, they took a hold of his pants and then yanked them off.

Sam’s eyes widened so much that they hurt, seeing from the corner of his eyes as his pants got thrown away to the furthest corner of the room, and since he wasn’t really wearing any underwear, when he felt Dean caressing his bare ass, he began hyperventilating.

“Gonna take what’s rightfully mine now, Sammy,” Dean whispered in his ear as he leaned forward, then licked the shell of his ear, and if Sam was afraid before, he was pretty sure that fear just doubled, no, it fucking tripled.

Getting murdered by his werewolf brother was one thing, but getting sexually assaulted? Yeah, Sam was going to have a mental breakdown.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he found himself asking, but it was pretty obvious.

Still licking and teasing his ear, Dean purred, “You know damn well what I’m doing.”

“You can’t be serious,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m your goddamn brother, Dean! A guy? Did turning into a werewolf mess with your brain that much?”

“Nah, more like helped me open my eyes,” Dean said lowly. “I always thought that I was protecting you, that we were the closest two people could get, but I was wrong. So, so wrong. I never really had you and you never truly belonged to me. We could be so much more, get so much closer, and that’s what the wolf made me understand. Sammy…you belong to me. Body and soul, you’re mine. And now I finally have a way of making sure that you stay mine, a way to show the whole world and most importantly you that we can’t exist without each other. I will claim you in a way only a wolf can, take possession of your everything and never, ever fucking let go.”

Sam’s breath hitched and he made a sound that was close to, but not quite, a whimper as Dean’s hands slid up and down his back, then moved way down and this time, he did whimper. Damn it, what the hell? His own brother was touching him, but instead of feeling sick, he was just scared. Scared and something else, something in Dean’s voice making him nervous and tense his muscles, the light caress of a hand and the brutal grip of fingers turning him into something he wasn’t, he couldn’t be. He swallowed thickly, pressing his forehead against the floor, unable to move as horror had successfully turned his body into stone, into cold marble. But his skin wasn’t cold, more like the opposite; he could feel the places his brother touched burning hot, his body as if on fire, the flames growing when he felt Dean’s lips on his skin. His heart was beating way too damn fast, faster that he believed was healthy or normal, and he was clenching his fists so hard his knuckles were turning white. And now matter how hard he bit town on his bottom lip, no matter how much blood entered his mouth from where his teeth broke soft skin, he still couldn’t muffle those goddamn sounds he was making.

They escaped him, taunting and humiliating him each and every time while his face flushed with what he hoped was anger, but knew was embarrassment. But honestly, how on Earth was he supposed to stay quite while his brother was kissing up and down his back, the hair standing on end on his arms as Dean’s hands stroked every inch of his body, his claws sometimes grazing against his skin, but that only made Sam whine more. He couldn’t wrap his mind around what was happening, what he was doing, his body betraying him in the cruelest of ways. Because he wasn’t supposed to enjoy this. He was supposed to kick and scream, to flee or tell Dean how fucked up this was. The intense fear was supposed to fuel his anger and make him hate his brother, not crave those dangerous touches even more. It got him trembling in both terror and excitement, wondering which touch would hurt and which would make him arch his back and send blood rushing to his hardening dick. It was ridiculous, but Sam was getting off on this. He knew he was a sick man, with fucked up things like demon blood addiction, but he never thought he would be one of those types that got an erection from being scared. Or from getting touched by their own brother, from hearing their violently possessive side, from pain. And the list just kept going, reminding him of all the crap he should be ashamed of. And he was ashamed, of course he was…just not right now.

Right now, he was moaning like a bitch under his werewolf brother’s hands.

“That’s it, Sammy.” Dean’s voice was a low growl, coming from between his legs as he kissed at his thighs, which sent a pleasant shiver down Sam’s spine. “Let me take care of you.”

He licked and kissed up to his ass, nibbling on his cheeks and drawing the lewdest sounds from the younger hunter, who at this point just couldn’t care about right or wrong anymore. But then he was caring really fucking fast, crying out in pain and shock when Dean lapped at one spot on his ass, then bit down on it, hard.

Like sinking his fangs deep, breaking the skin and drawing blood hard.

“What? No, no, no!” Sam panicked, gaping at his brother as he looked back over his shoulder. He watched as Dean pulled away from his now bleeding ass and licked the blood from his lips, then flashed a smug grin at Sam.

“Something the matter?” he asked innocently.

Sam blinked incredulously, then shot a furious look at him. “Something the matter? _Something the matter?_ Have you gone completely mental, Dean? Lost all you brain cells? You fucking bit me, you animal!”

But Dean didn’t seem to be too fazed by his brother’s anger. “Yeah, well it was bound to happen,” he said with a shrug, his grin widening at the look Sam gave him. “I’m a werewolf, Sammy. I can’t really have you and call you mine if I’m the only monster.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you could. I’m pretty fucking sure this…whatever this is, could have worked out without me having to be turned into a wolf too!”

“You’re overreacting.”

Sam was speechless for a long moment, then let out a laugh of disbelief. “You must be joking. Either that, or you’re serious, but I really hope for your own good that you are not.”

“Listen,” Dean said with a sigh, “I’m gonna mate you. Yeah, I know you have no clue what that is, I didn’t know until I turned either, but I will do it. Only way to do it, though, is with you being a wolf too. And sure, you might be angry and hate the fact that you’re gonna sprout fangs, but once you feel the animal inside, you’re gonna be thankful.”

“I can’t believe the fucking nerves you have…” Sam hissed, then took one glance at the bite mark his brother left on his ass, and let his head fall back to the floor. “Whatever. What’s done is done, it’s not like I can force you to somehow undo this shit. But once I am a wolf, you can bet that I’ll kick your ass and claw out your eyeballs. And I’ll make sure to do it as slowly as possible.”

He could hear Dean laughing behind him, then felt his warm tongue on the wound. He was pissed off for many reasons, for example because he couldn’t possibly call himself a hunter after this, because Dean didn’t even ask for some sort of consent, or just because he, quite frankly, did not want to become a wolf. A monster that would crave human hearts and go apeshit each full moon. He would be hunted from now on, instead of being the one doing the hunting, and it was scaring him.

And Dean must have sensed it somehow, because he was licking his ear again. “I can smell it, you know? Your fear. You’ve been stinking of it ever since I woke you.”

“Really? I wonder why,” he scoffed.

“You don’t have to be afraid, we’ve got each other,” Dean said reassuringly, and this was the first time Sam heard his brother speak so sincerely tonight, without a hint of malice in his voice. “As long as you have me, everything’s gonna be fine, right? I’m all you need. And you’re all I need to be happy, to be truly fucking happy…”

Sam thought about it, but the inevitable fact of becoming a werewolf still saddened him. However, at the same time, Dean was kind of right. More or less. A bit.

He sighed, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as his brother nudged his cheek with his nose. He despised himself for it, but he couldn’t stay mad for long. He would turn into a werewolf, there was nothing he could do about it, but at least he’d have Dean. His brother would stay right by his side, and it seemed that he was planning to stay for the long haul. And really, the more he thought about it, the better a life without hunting sounded.

However he needed to clarify one thing.

“We are not going to kill humans,” he stated suddenly, turning his head to glare at Dean, and after a while, his brother rolled his eyes and nodded.

“I never thought about eating human hearts.”

“You will. Every werewolf does.”

“Well, we’re not really every werewolf, are we?” Dean raised an eyebrow at him, grinning slyly, and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle.

“No, we’re not,” he said, then after a long moment of silence, he forced the next few words out of his mouth, even though it was taking him great physical effort. “So will you wait until I turn before _claiming_ me, or…?”

Dean’s grin turned feral right away, and a deep growl escaped his throat as he lowered his body onto Sam’s, slowly grinding against his ass and making him hiss and moan at the same time. “I’m thinking along the lines of both,” he purred into Sam’s ear. “What do you say I show you what I can do now that I’m your Alpha, Sammy?”

He shivered, all doubts about leading a relationship with his wolf brother flying right out the window when he heard the sheer amount of lust and some sort of irresistible dominance in Dean’s voice.

“Yeah, please,” he found himself sighing, closing his eyes and burying his face in his arms when Dean kissed the back of his neck, then pulled back and Sam could hear him fumble with his pants.

Mere moments later, he felt soft lips on his ass and he tensed, however this time, it wasn’t from fear. He took in a shaky breath as Dean spread his cheeks and then his tongue was circling his entrance, making Sam whimper. That made his face flush, the need in his voice so strange and alien to him, but he didn’t really hate it. Quite the opposite, he decided to relish in it and get on his knees for his brother, raising his hips in the air and presenting himself.

Dean let out a dirty chuckle as his claws trailed down Sam’s thighs. “Well somebody’s eager. I’m pleased you know your place already, dear little brother,” he praised Sam, and somehow those words made him incredibly happy in a way that shouldn’t possibly have been normal, but at this point, what was?

But then he couldn’t contemplate on the sudden changes in his behavior, because he was moaning, Dean apparently having enough with idle chitchat and getting down to business. He went back to licking Sam, then was quick to replace his tongue with a clawed finger. Sam wasn’t going to lie, it kind of hurt and made him hiss in pain rather than moan in pleasure, but Dean didn’t seem to care as he began fingering him and, when his finger brushed against what was surely Sam’s prostate, he stopped caring as well. Two more fingers joined in on the fun after a while, twisting and curling inside of him and making him arch his back and push back on the digits, the rough drags and thrusts just turning him on even more.

And while one of Dean’s hands was busy with his ass, the other hand was gripping Sam’s hips and bruising him, his claws leaving wounds that would surely hurt later, but Sam didn’t mind. He liked it, liked the pain, liked the possessive and aggressive way Dean touched him, and suddenly, he wanted so much more.

“Dean…” he whined, wiggling his ass like some cheap whore, and immediately, he felt a fourth finger slide past his hole, felt it cutting his skin and stretching him even more violently.

He had to wonder if his ass was bleeding too, but even if it was, he wouldn’t have told Dean to stop. One, because he wanted this, wanted it like this, and two, because he was rather sure his brother wouldn’t have stopped even if Sam would have begged. So he stayed silent, apart from the loud moans and quite wanton mewls that left him with each rough shove of Dean’s fingers; however when he felt the fifth one poking at his hole and then slipping in, his eyes widened in surprise, and he cried out when his brother closed his hand into a tight fist all the while inside him.

“Oh my God!” Sam cried, his legs trembling as Dean just wouldn’t halt in his movements, still thrusting in and out, fucking him with his damn fist.

“Great, isn’t it?” Dean said as he nipped at the small of his back, hard, and he could have sworn that his brother’s voice dropped an octave. “I wish you could see this, Sammy. See as your greedy little hole just swallows my fist right up, not willing to let go. It wants me, so fucking hungry, clenching around my wrist.”

Sam was blushing madly, he could feel his face heating up, and the constant wet and just downright dirty sounds his hole made as Dean fisted him weren’t helping either. He whimpered softly, then not-so-softly when his brother’s knuckles pressed down on his prostate. He keened loudly, trying to move back, rocking his hips and trying to take the fist in even deeper, needing it deeper, but then it was gone just like that, leaving him empty and desperate.

He let out a pathetic sound, rock hard and leaking pre-come to the floor, his gaping hole needing something to fill him up, keep him stuffed with something thick and warm, and soon, that’s exactly what happened. Sam’s breath hitched as his big brother teased his fluttering hole with the head of his cock, Sam pushing back and seriously considering reaching back and spreading his cheeks for Dean. But he didn’t have to, because in the next moment, his brother was inside him, burying himself in the wet heat in an instant.

“Fuckin’ Hell, Sammy,” Dean groaned lowly, gripping his waist while rolling his hips tauntingly. “So tight for me, my personal little bitch. Gonna fuck you good and hard now, show you how we’re gonna be from now on, mark you and mate you. Mine forever.”

And with a thick cock buried balls deep in his ass, all Sam could do was whine and nod, slightly trembling with desire. He wanted Dean to take him, to fuck him for hours on end, the need to submit and do everything his brother wanted slowly creeping up on him, slowly changing him. Sam didn’t even register what he was doing, didn’t even realize he was baring his neck and pressing his upper body into the floor while raising his ass further in the air for Dean, all of it for Dean.

His brother leaned down and licked at his exposed neck, drawing such a lewd and somewhat happy sound from Sam that the younger man froze.

“Such a good boy for me,” Dean growled, mouthing the words against the skin of the nape of his neck. “I can smell just how much you want me, baby, you fucking stink of sex and despair, of need for a good knot.”

The word was new for Sam, but even so, somehow he knew that a knot was exactly what he wanted. “Yes, please, please Dean, want it,” he begged, shivering when his brother sank his fangs into his neck while moving his hands up his naked body, dipping his fingers in his ribs and gliding them along his muscles, up and up to his arms.

Those rough hands stroked his biceps, before sliding up to his wrists and easing them out from under Sam’s head, and he barely had time to look back at his brother before he was gasping as his arms were so suddenly and cruelly jerked back. He stared ahead with wide eyes, panting as he glanced down and realized that his whole upper body was stretched horizontally in the air, Dean’s firm grip on his wrists the only thing keeping him upright and preventing him from falling on his face. And before he could have asked his brother what this weird pose was all about, he was moving, slowly pulling out of Sam until only the head of his cock remained inside, then slammed back inside. Sam cried out, then kept on making high-pitched moans and loud, drawn-out whines as Dean rammed into him with incredible speed, fucking him savagely and, just as promised, good and hard, all the while using Sam’s wrists to pull him into each and every thrust.

It was so intense, controlled so fully by Dean, his brother moving in and out of him all the while moving Sam’s own body the way he wanted, and Sam was throwing his head back and letting him, loving it. This inability to do anything, the loss of control and utter submission was overwhelming, making his body burn with so many things, most of which he couldn’t even name, they were so new and extreme, filling him with bliss. But being dominated to such an extent wasn’t the only thing driving him crazy; Dean’s voice, those deep and primal growls, his loud groans, the way he cursed and worshipped Sam, repeating his name over and over again, had the younger hunter screaming and nearly sobbing in pure, white-hot pleasure.

Dean rocked his body, the only reason he hadn’t collapsed on the floor yet being his brother’s crushing grip on him, as he pulled him back into each thrust, impaling him on his thick and long, throbbing cock, which seemed to be getting even thicker. Sam was starting to feel something stretching his hole with each wild slam, opening him even wider than his big brother’s shaft. Whatever it was, it was getting bigger, threatening to get stuck inside him any moment and, after long minutes of fucking like animals, that’s exactly what happened.

His brother yanked him back, snapping his hips forward and going as deep as anatomically possible, the strange thickness slipping past Sam’s hole and staying there. He mewled loudly, arching his back and clenching down on it, feeling so fucking full, then he was crying out as Dean pulled him up until his back was flush against his brother’s chest, and he was growling, coming hard and emptying his load in Sam. He could feel everything, felt Dean’s hot come filling him in jerks, and that and everything else had him coming too, screaming as he let his head fall back on his brother’s shoulder as his orgasm washed through his body, feeling like the blood in his veins turned to molten lava as he came untouched.

They stayed like that for a while, panting and coming down from the high of such a mind-blowing orgasm, then Dean was unwrapping his fingers from around Sam’s severely bruised wrists and sliding his arms around his chest. He pulled him into a hug, lowering his body so that Sam was sitting in his brother’s lap, with his cock still in his ass.

After he managed to catch his breath, Sam opened his eyes and turned his head to look at his brother, who was in the middle of lapping at a wound on his shoulder. “Are you…stuck?”

Dean looked up at him, then started laughing. “It’s supposed to be like this. Yeah, Sammy, I am. Pretty sure it’s normal for wolves.”

“So that’s the knot?” he asked, and his brother nodded.

“Guess so,” he said with a smirk, then nibbled on Sam’s shoulder for a bit before making some sort of purring sound. “We’re gonna stay like this until my cock turns back to normal. Gonna stay connected, and I just know that when you’ll be a wolf too, it’ll feel even better.”

“A wolf…” Sam’s voice trailed off and he sighed, but couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “How could it possibly be any better than this?”

His brother chuckled and nuzzled him. “Because then, I’ll be able to mate you for real.”

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” he said as he placed a soft kiss on Sam’s forehead when the man put his head back on his shoulder, “I’m not that sure myself. I can just feel that if we have sex like that, if I knot you when you’re a wolf too, then we’ll connect. Not just body, but more… You’ll be mine in every single way possible, and I’m telling you in advance, I’m never planning to let go.”

“Who said anything about letting go?” Sam said and smiled at Dean who, for the first time tonight, looked happy.

Then that look was quickly replaced by something darker as his brother bit his cheek and made a small growl. “From the moment you’re a wolf, _my wolf_ , I won’t let anyone get close to you. I will cover you with marks, gotta mark my territory, and if anyone dares look at you the wrong way, I’m gonna slit their throats and bleed them out.”

And Sam should have been scared from the sudden change, the bloodthirst in his brother’s eyes, but instead, he just grinned. “Calm down, Cujo. Your cock is literally stuck inside me, isn’t that enough proof that I’m already all yours?”

Dean returned his grin. “There’s never enough.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes, then leaned in and kissed his werewolf’s chin. “Then I’ll never stop proving it…”

And when, after a couple of hours, Sam turned and presented as an Omega, they both knew that they would spend the next few days locked into the motel room, proving things.


End file.
